


In Blaiddyd Blood

by terrawrites



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azure Moon Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Verdant Wind Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrawrites/pseuds/terrawrites
Summary: Forced to flee from her homeland when she was young, Aria Blaiddyd ended up on the other side of the world in a land called Thedas that she came to call home. She never gave up hope that one day she might return to Fódlan and her family. When news of the war reaches her from across the sea, Aria, now the Champion of Kirkwall, finally returns to find that a lot has changed in the twelve years she had been gone. She now must pick up the fight where her brother left off while battling with the weight of her newfound responsibilities.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & OC, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & OC, Sylvain Jose Gautier & OC
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I recently got into Fire Emblem so I thought I'd try my hand at writing a fic for it! For anyone wondering about the tags, I plan to merge the Golden Deer and the Blue Lions post-timeskip route which is why I tagged spoilers for both. Please feel free to leave behind constructive criticism since I'm always looking to improve!
> 
> Chapter 1 will be up later today! I'm waiting for a few last people to look it over before I commit to posting it

Copper-laced breath spilled forth from her lips, the plume of billowing air disturbed by the body it came from passing through it the moment it entered the world. Cerulean eyes burned from molten tears. The dark shadows of trees and foliage further blurred together into inky splotches. Branches whipped at her face, paper-thin cuts forming and leaking crimson tears that met the salty rivers from her eyes. Her feet pounded the detritus, the layers of leaves and debris padded the sounds of her rapid footfalls.

Behind her, the howls of beasts plagued her ears. Behind them, the shouts of shadow-clad masters barked orders. Her lungs burned, her body bled, but she had to keep running. The sight of her carriage burning, the bodies twisted and slaughtered at her feet bore into her mind every time she blinked. There was no saving them, but there was still a chance to save herself.

They were gaining ground.

It was a fact. The sounds of her pursuers increased in volume with each moment her body grew ever more weary. How long had she been running? The sky was already black before they came, and the starless night bore no evidence of the passage of time. She could not go on for much longer, yet she knew that she must find the strength to keep moving her legs. The moment she gave in to the crippling exhaustion which threatened to sweep her legs out from under her, she would be at the mercy of those who chased her. She knew for certain that they would only finish what had failed to consume her the first time.

As her luck would have it, she had missed the sudden downward slope of the terrain underneath her feet. With a strangled yelp she pitched forward and tumbled down in a tangle of dirt and blood-crusted limbs. When she came to a halt, her arms shook with the effort of her own body weight, her muscles screamed their protests at her continued torture. She had to keep moving forward.

Her mind was clouded over with pain and exhaustion, her vision narrowed as she dragged one foot in front of the other. Her gaze fixated on her salvation: an open crate on the docks up ahead. So wrapped up within her own mind, she failed to realize that her feverous pursuit had ended with the tree line she had chaotically left behind. The black leather-and-robe-clad masters watched the hunched form slink towards the mass of flickering lanterns hung from posts and doors alike, their hulking, slobbering beasts gnashed their teeth together at the sight of a lost meal. They did not follow their target down past the tree line.

“Speak of this failure to no one.” The first one stated, his gaze focused on the crate that was in the process of being loaded onto the ship it was next to. The slight smudges of blood along the edge which faced the pair had either gone unnoticed or uncared for by the ones who held the crate in their grip.

“They will expect a body.” The second one turned his gaze to the first.

“And they will have the body they seek. It does not need to be her bones they find, but bones that are similar enough to avoid the truth of our failure.”

“She could return.” It was said as less of a question and more of a fact.

“The name of that ship is the Serpent’s Fang, and its destination is Gwaren.”

“Gwaren?”

“A port town in a continent far to the west of Fódlan. Thedas.” There was a pause. “We will dispatch our spies on the next ship, _quietly_. From there we will monitor the situation and take action accordingly until we can locate her and eliminate her. If we are lucky, she will die far from home and our inability to kill her tonight will never be discovered.”

There was another pause before the second one spoke again. His voice was quiet, as if speaking the words alone would bring them about. “And if we are unlucky?”

“Then our blood will be far from the last to spill.”

When the sun cast its dawning rays across the horizon, the word carried across the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus like the rising melody of morning birdsong. Aria Adelia Blaiddyd, daughter of the royal family of Faerghus, had been murdered.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was all originally supposed to be a flashback but I realized I had to make this it's own chapter when I saw how much I had to include. The next chapter will kick off with the actual beginning of the War Phase with the Millenium Festival so we can get right into the good stuff. There'll be a bit of a jump in time between this and chapter two though so just a small warning about that. Fun fact, I actually forgot the dog when I first wrote this so I had to quick go back and add him in. Anyway, as always feel free to leave constructive criticism!

Dawn crept over the rolling, foam-tipped waves. Sea salt cloaked Aria’s frame like the wounds that still littered her body from before her voyage. She gripped the wooden banisters as the ship lurched back and forth with the rhythm of the ocean. It threatened to empty the contents of her stomach with each sway of the bow. At her feet, her loyal mabari hound, Cassius, swayed in time with the boat. He was hunched over, the movement of the ocean taking a stronger toll on his smaller body. In the distance, still just a spec against the blazing orange of the new dawn, lay her destination: the small port town of Rouville in the northwestern-most corner of Gautier controlled lands. Memories of her departure twelve years ago from that very town threatened to overwhelm her senses: the choking scent of blood, the paralyzing fear, the gnarled sounds of the hounds that snapped at her ankles as she fled. She felt a sudden onset of dizziness, and it took all of her current strength not to lose herself in past horrors. Cassius whined as he placed his head against her leg. He could sense the emotions that flowed through her, and tried to provide whatever comfort he could. 

Fódlan was at war, and she was here to fight for her homeland. 

It would be half an hour before Aria’s ship, the Serpent’s Fang, docked. The moment she had set foot upon the soil of Fódlan, she was beset by the people of the village. They clamored to view the new arrival from the ship fabled to sail between their home and some faraway land where tainted creatures would rise at the behest of a dragon and lay waste to the land. 

One stepped forward, his hair frayed and his clothes reeked of fish. “May we know your name, traveler?”

Aria took a deep breath and held it for a heartbeat or two before she let it out slow through parted lips. This was the moment she had waited years for. “My name is Aria Adelia Blaiddyd.” The name felt odd on her tongue, unfamiliar as her lips parted to form it. Blaiddyd was a name she never dared utter in her exile. To speak it now brought a surge of emotions that moved far too rapid for her to process each one individually.

The man let out a chuckle, echoed by the gathered crowd. Of course, she hadn’t expected anyone to believe her, but she stood tall as the laughter died down. She hadn’t laughed, and there were a few glances exchanged between those around her the longer Aria stayed silent. Quiet murmurs began to rise, and the man spoke up once again.

“Surely you must jest, the whole Kingdom knows of the late princess’ passing over ten years ago. Now, why don’t you tell us your actual name so we may greet you properly?” The man brought his hands together in nervousness. He was unsure, cautious as she only continued to hold his gaze.

“I speak the truth. I am the princess in which you refer. I have been living in a land far beyond the waters of Fódlan in wait for a day that I may return.” As she spoke, Aria kept her posture straight, her head held high. She could not falter now that she had given her name. She would not abandon her home when it needed her. At her heels, Cassius copied the form of his master.

The murmurs of the crowd increased. The man before her tried to pry her “real name” from her a few more times, but with each prompt she only repeated herself. Several people in the crowd slunk away each time she answered.  _ Good _ , she thought.  _ They will no doubt spread word of my arrival _ . The sooner she could meet up with her brother to lend her sword (and hound) to the fight, the better. Dimitri would recognize her. He had to.

As time passed, Aria and Cassius had been escorted to the local inn by the same man who had questioned her when it was clear that she would not rescind her claim. There she waited in relative silence while a crowd formed in front of the building, old and young alike clamored for a glimpse at the foreign traveler of supposed royal blood.

It had not taken long for the news of a mysterious new arrival who claimed to be the dead princess to reach the ears of the remaining loyal nobles of Faerghus. By noon, Margrave Gautier, Duke Fraldarius, and their respective heirs had arrived. Duke Rodrigue Fraldarius, Shield of Faerghus was the first to enter the establishment. In the many years since Aria had last laid eyes on the man, he had changed remarkably little. His hair sported a little more grey, his skin just a tad more wrinkled, but there was no mistaking the identity of her father’s closest friend. His gaze fell to her, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny as he took her in. Aria shifted in her seat so that her back was straight, her gaze meeting that of the Duke head-on.

Though she gave the outward appearance of composure, nervousness wracked at her insides. Aria had no physical means of proving her identity, she could only hope that whatever she had to offer them from her own memories would prove to be sufficient. Rodrigue approached the table in which she sat, his brow drawn together and his lips set in a firm line. He said nothing until he stood over her, across the table. 

“What is your name?” His voice was even, carefully schooled by years of practice in dealing in noble affairs.

“Aria Adelia Blaiddyd.” She had to fight the urge to wince as her name left her lips, heavy with the Ferelden accent she had acquired after so many years in her distant refuge. Cassius placed his head upon the top of her knee, a silent source of reassurance.

Rodrigue’s mouth thinned even more, his eyes flashed with something Aria couldn’t recognize. She did know, however, that her accent was not starting this off in the right direction. “If you are Aria, then this should be over with quickly. Just come with us and once we confirm your crest we can continue this conversation.”

The corners of her lips slipped downward into a frown, her face scrunched in confusion. “Why would you test for a crest when I wasn’t born with one? Only my brother bore the Minor Crest of Blaiddyd.”

Her face didn’t relax until she saw Rodrigue reach for the chair in front of him, the sound of wood against wood filled the inn as it was pulled out. As Aria looked up once again to her companion, she could see that his posture had loosened, his eyes no longer set in as hard of a stare though she knew that he still watched her, appraised her with every word that she spoke. He nodded once, “Good, you’ve passed our first question then. But if we are to believe that you really are who you claim to be, then we are going to be here for a  _ very _ long time.”

And Rodrigue had spoken the truth. He interrogated her for many hours, until long past when the sun had fallen once again. All of them had centered around events of her childhood, things that ranged from trivialities to things that anyone in Faerghus could have known about her. Each time Aria answered to the best of her own memories. When Rodrigue had run out of questions, he had brought in the Margrave to begin his own line of questioning. With each one, neither gave any indication as to the nature of their feelings over her answers. 

When at long last the Margrave had finished, the two had nodded to the innkeeper, who had nearly tripped over himself in his haste to lead her away upstairs where she would wait while the two discussed the legitimacy of her claim. Below, Aria could just make out the voices of the Duke and Margrave. Between the door and the distance between her and them, she could not even begin to decipher the words, they rose and fell in volume as the hours dragged on. Some small fit of anxiety clawed at her knowing that the decision reached below would determine if she would walk out of this room a princess that would lead an army, or a prisoner that would be led in shackles.

Shadows danced across the walls cast from flickered flames. The worn oak of the chair dug into Aria’s skin while her fists clenched the candle-hued steel of her armor. There was a tear in the leather that covered behind her knee, another leftover battle scar from the brief Qunari occupation of Kirkwall, like the ones that still littered her body. Outside, the moon cast its white light down over the inky shadows of Fódlan. Cassius laid on the bed, his eyes darted between his master and the door on the other side of the room. 

The sound of boots on hollow wood sounded from beyond her door and pulled Aria from within her own thoughts. She tensed, her breath caught in her throat as they grew ever in volume the closer the person in question got to her location. There was some hesitation in their footfalls as they neared, as if the individual expected a dagger to greet them at the turn of the handle. From his spot on the bed Cassius raised his head, a low warning growl emanating from the war hound. 

“Be still, Cassius.” She soothed. Cassius huffed and took up a position near her once again, his gaze focused on the other side of the room.

She stood as the worn oak groaned on rusted hinges. Black steel and a mess of red hair entered her vision as the door gave way to reveal the person who had opened it. Brown eyes met narrowed cerulean as Aria regarded the foreign individual who appeared before her now. His gaze traveled over her own, his face contorted to one that seemed in the throes of a desperate search for some kind of answer to a question that hadn’t been asked. Nothing had been uttered, both silent as they took in the sight of the other. There was something that nagged at her mind, something that screamed familiarity. Memories came unbidden across her mind’s eye, of a time long ago. The man before her was older, his shoulders heavier with the weight of war and responsibility, but she recognized him now.

“Sylvain?”

The sound of armor against armor filled the air between them as the man in question rushed forward with a speed that caught Aria off guard. She was pulled against the other with a force that had almost knocked the air from her lungs. Metal-clad arms clung to her frame, and once Aria had regained her composure, returned the gesture in kind. 

He spoke then, his voice quiet, but it betrayed the emotion he felt in that moment: joy, grief, regret. “We thought you were gone.” Silver and black-tinted steel embraced while candles dim cast both red and brown hair alight. When Sylvain pulled away, his face was contorted into that of anguish. “Aria… I’m so sorry.”

The faint stir of panic began to swell within her gut. Those words had never been followed with any kind of good news for her. “What do you have to be sorry for? There was nothing anyone could have done that night I was attacked on my way back to Fhirdiad. You can’t blame yourself for something like that.”

He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by another who had appeared. “It’s not about that. It’s about… Dimitri.”

The new person spoke as if saying the name itself pained him. Aria looked over Sylvain’s shoulder to the new arrival. His hair was a dark blue, pulled up into a ponytail that framed brown eyes that seemed to pierce into her soul. He had changed much from the wide-eyed boy that Aria remembered always following her brother or Sylvain around. Like Sylvain, he too carried a new weight from the war and from the responsibilities that came with it. But unlike Sylvain, he seemed burdened by more personal matters. He bore the weight of a trauma that had already set its weight upon him. His gaze softened when they met hers, but the lines of his eyes were still harsh, like he was incapable of letting his guard drop in the presence of others.

“Felix… Is Dimitri here too?” 

The man in question sighed. “You… might want to sit down for this.” That pit feeling in her stomach increased tenfold. The corners of Felix’s mouth had dropped down, and between that and the looks of regret and apprehension cast between the two men, the tears came unbidden to her eyes as she came to the only possible conclusion.

“No…  _ please  _ no. Don’t tell me he’s-” Aria fell to her knees, her hands brought up to cover her face as a broken sob tore out from her throat. A whine escaped her hound as he pressed his body into his distraught owner. His snout made its way into the spot between her face and neck where he let it rest.

“We’re so sorry, but yes. Cornelia executed him for the murder of your uncle and seized the throne to side with the Empire.” Sylvain’s voice was soft as he knelt to the ground next to her. He reached out with one of his hands to rest it upon her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, not that it did much for her in that moment. There was still more bad news to be laid bare.

“Why would he do such a thing? What could our uncle have ever done to him?  _ Why wouldn’t father have stopped him? _ ” Aria’s mind reeled at the news of Dimitri’s death. It just didn’t seem plausible to her that he would commit such an act. Her older brother, who when they were younger used to fret over the smallest of scratches on her person, who spoke of serving the Kingdom with honor. That such a person would murder family just was something Aria could not comprehend.

Unseen to Aria, a wince passed through the expressions of the two nobles. They shared a glance between them, and it was Felix who first broke through the tense silence shared by the pair. “Your father and stepmother have also been… murdered, about eight years ago. They were on their way to Duscur to improve relations when their entourage was overtaken. Only the bo- Dimitri had survived. My brother, your father, your stepmother, all perished in the conflict. I am sorry.”

The sobs from Aria only grew louder, and Sylvain pulled her closer to him in retaliation. Both of his arms wrapped around her while she mourned for the loss of her whole family. He shot a glare at his younger companion. He had caught the almost slip of Felix’s nickname for the late prince.

Felix, still rooted to the spot he appeared in felt his frown deepen. Guilt clawed at him. He… could have worded things better. He took those few steps across the room until he was beside her. With one hand he reached out, much like Sylvain had earlier, and placed his upon her other shoulder. 

They stayed with her in silence while she wept until at last, she had no more tears left to cast. When she disentangled herself from their grip, the trio retired for what little was left of the evening. Before his departure, Felix had paused once again by the door, another apology on the tip of his tongue, before he shook his head and left without anything said. As Aria laid upon the bed Cassius came up next to her, once again pressing close to provide what comfort he could in this moment.

In what little sleep Aria had managed, her mind filled with images of Leandra, clad in white with limbs that belonged to faceless others. In her nightmare, her brother, father, and stepmother joined the former. Their voices called out to her, their tone one of accusation.  _ Why hadn’t you been able to save us? Why couldn’t you have done more?  _ They closed in around her, towered high above her frame as she sank once again to her knees. Her hands clasped around her ears, an attempt to drown out the voices that echoed in the recesses of her conscience. 

When the sun had risen once again from the depths of the earth, she was roused from her tumultuous slumber. Rodrigue was the figure that greeted her vision upon being awakened, and his gaze held sympathy as he took in the heavy bags underneath her eyes. “My apologies for not letting you rest longer, your highness.” The words caused her to wince as they passed through her ears. They sounded wrong after so long, and even more so after the news she had received the night prior. “There is much to discuss, and we must not waste a single moment. We’ll be waiting downstairs.”

With that, the duke departed, and Aria was left to pull on the discarded pieces of her armor.

The innkeeper that had escorted her to her sleeping quarters the previous night had almost toppled over in his haste to bow when Aria descended down the steps into the main room. Outside, the crowd that had gathered had increased tenfold since the previous day as news of the princess’ return spread to every corner of the former Kingdom, to lands both under Imperial control and resisting it. Aria schooled her expression as Rodrigue, the Margrave, Felix, and Sylvain all sat around a table off to one corner with Aria. A meager feast had been laid out before the group, food and drink prepared to perfection in a manner best befitting one of royal and noble blood. Aria couldn’t help but think about how difficult such a feast would have been to prepare in such a trying time. 

Not long into their meal, Rodrigue cleared his throat. His gaze was set upon Aria and she listened as he brought her up to speed on the current state of their forces in the war against the Empire. The news was not good. The Kingdom forces were on the verge of collapse without Dimitri to rally behind, the minor lords under the three leading noble houses had begun to falter in their conviction to their continued fight. Rodrigue had the decency to look ashamed as he spoke. “I hate to ask for such a big favor so suddenly upon your arrival but, as you can see we cannot hold out against the Empire for much longer. The people  _ need _ someone of royal blood to take up arms for.”

“And you want that person to be me.” There was no question behind either of their words. There was only the reality that the Kingdom of Faerghus needed someone to lead them to retake Fhirdiad, and Aria was their only option. 

“You as of right now are indeed the only surviving descendant of Blaiddyd blood. It is our hope- no, it is the hope of all of Faerghus that you will ascend to the throne once you have cast the Empire from our lands.” Rodrigue looked at her with a gaze that told that he knew she could not refuse his offer, that he only phrased it the way he did to be polite. The Margrave, who had remained mostly silent except for the occasional interjection during the initial report, also had his gaze trained upon her as he waited for her answer.

Aria looked down to her hound, and Cassius only tilted his head to the side as he met her gaze. She thought back to Kirkwall. Of the friends whom she had left behind in her haste to return to Fódlan. Of the ones she had come to call brother and sister who had in their grief turned their anger upon. She thought to the citizens whom she had defended, waiting for their champion to return to them. If she accepted, then she would likely never see any of them again. However, if she refused, then why had she even bothered coming back to Fódlan in the first place? Her homeland needed her, Aria would not abandon them now.

She sighed and set her hands in the space before her. “I have no option but to accept. I will never abandon my people, especially not when I am needed the most.”

For the rest of that morning, once the townspeople had been allowed in, Aria regaled them with the story of her attempted murder, and of her escape while the Duke and Margrave made the preparations for their departure. The people had listened with rapt attention as she recalled tales of creatures and magic far different from the ones they knew. Of hulking gray-skinned Qunari with sweeping horns to stout, metalworking Dwarves with a stone sense so strong that they never got lost even in the darkest of tunnels. She told them of the Blight, and the tainted creatures known as Darkspawn led by corrupted old gods called Archdemons and of the Grey Wardens, people of every walk of life who devoted their entire lives to fight the horde. She spoke of her hound, Cassius, and the breed of canine that were created for war. Dogs able to understand and follow the complex orders of their masters. As she spoke of the place that she had called a second home for so long, she struggled to push the grief that pulled harsh at her heart. 

By noon, they were to set out for the town of Valles in Fraldarius lands where the headquarters of their forces resided. The sight of the horses had thrown Aria off guard for a moment as she set her eyes upon them. The ones in Ferelden and Kirkwall lacked the extra tufts of hair that were commonplace on the beasts of Fódlan. She reached out with her hand and let her fingertips graze delicate over the nose of the creature. The horse, upon contact, moved closer and pushed its muzzle harder into her grip in an attempt to receive more attention. From her feet, Cassius whined as she elected to pay attention to some other creature than him. A soft smile splayed across her lips. So caught up in the horse and hound before her, she almost managed to miss that there were only four steeds geared up to head out. “Is there someone staying behind?”

“Right, my apologies for neglecting to mention this sooner, your highness. We were ill-prepared for the rumor of your return to be legitimate, so we only have the four horses we rode on ourselves.” As he spoke, Rodrigue climbed atop his steed, the Margrave doing the same.

“You’re saying I have to share? Could we not just purchase one from the townspeople? And what of my hound? Surely you cannot expect him to be able to keep up with the horses?” Aria’s hand fell away from the one she had been petting, and the horse let out a whinny of disappointment at the loss of contact.

“I’m afraid not. The horses here are built to plow fields and haul farming equipment. Such a long journey would be too much for one of them to bear, not to mention we would be leaving the people with one less worker. In this trying time, we need all those in the fields as we can get. As for your hound, he may ride with someone too.” Aria could almost smell the bullshit that Rodrigue was putting forth, but she decided against continuing the argument at that moment. 

“Then who would I be riding with?”

Rodrigue smiled and nodded to Felix who had come up behind her. “Why, Felix of course. It’s a long journey back to Fraldarius territory, and the two of you could use the time to catch up.”

Felix made sounds like he wanted to protest, but stern one look from his father had him grumbling curses under his breath. He made it a point to look anywhere but directly at Aria as he finished setting the saddle and climbed onto the horse. There was a poorly concealed snicker from Sylvain as he mounted his own off to the side. Felix only shot his friend a glare, though it turned into a snicker of his own when the Duke offered Sylvain to be the one to accommodate Cassius. His gaze met Aria’s for a brief moment as he held out his hand to help her up to sit in the saddle behind him. He cast his eyes away a moment later, and Aria just barely caught the faint dust of pink that covered his cheeks.

The ride back to Valles was spent in an uncomfortable silence between the two. Aria could feel how tense Felix held himself with how close in proximity they had to be. He had certainly changed much from how she remembered him to be when they were younger. Now he reminded her of Glenn, with his blunt and often crass manner in which he spoke to those around him. For the first leg of their journey, Sylvain had ridden close to the pair as he attempted to engage Aria in conversation on multiple occasions. Each time, he was interrupted by his father or the Duke, who had matters of war to discuss with the young noble. After the fifth or so incident, Sylvain had all but given up any hope of conversation and chose to stick close to the head of the group to discuss strategy.

With Felix’s sudden allergy to any kind of conversation, Aria chose to take in the landscape as they rode on. Faerghus had always been a cold and harsh land, but at the times of the change in the season, there was a certain beauty to the natural world that had captivated her from a young age. As snow fell way to budding green, or when that green changed to deep reds and vibrant yellows, the land seemed to come alive. She had missed this kind of natural magic over in Ferelden. The seasons changed just like anywhere else, but it didn’t carry that same spark as it seemed to here.

When at long last they passed into the threshold of Valles, a crowd had formed to greet them, a mix of soldiers and townspeople alike. As she gazed down into the faces of the masses, she caught the way their expressions held hope. The crowd formed along the sides of the road, forming a makeshift parade as the group traveled to their headquarters. At some point, there were cheers that sounded out from the people, and others who clasped their hands together and bowed as she rode past.

As they reached the steps of their destination, two individuals stood in wait. Felix was the first to dismount, and once again he had offered his hand to assist Aria as she followed him off. Braided blonde hair and green eyes met Aria’s cerulean. The moment Aria’s feet had hit the ground the two women ran towards each other and locked together in a teary embrace.

“I wanted to be there with the others when we heard the news, but I was needed here. I’m sorry.” Ingrid pulled away and wiped at the tears that had gathered to fall from her eyes. “I’m just so glad you’re alive. After your parents, Glenn, Dimitri, I don’t think I could have handled it if the news of your return had been a lie.”

“There is nothing you need to be sorry for, Ingrid.” Aria opened her mouth to say more, but Rodrigue took that as his moment to step into the conversation.

“As much as I would like to let you indulge in reunions, we must not put off planning our next move for any longer. Cornelia is not fond of waiting for her next opportunity to strike, and if news has reached Fhirdiad of your return then I fear her actions against us will become even more fierce.” Rodrigue interrupted the pair with a look of sympathy.

Yet Aria knew that he spoke the truth. There was no more time they could afford to waste with the next attack looming on the horizon. She nodded to the Duke and he led them through the decorated halls of his home. Large, ornate doors pushed in to reveal the generals gathered around a map of Faerghus. All of them bowed as she entered, and Aria had to fight the frown that still pulled at her whenever she was shown the courtesy that should have been her brother’s. 

Her heart yearned for her family, but Aria knew she would never see them again. There was only what she could do now for their memories. War didn’t allow for the pleasure of mourning, Aria had to keep her mind in the present so that she could turn the tide of this war. Aria placed her hands upon the edge of the table, her gaze traveled over each of the gathered lords and generals. “Where shall we begin?”


End file.
